Signe. Pooh! Why should you bother about that? Now you are sighing again. I am sure you know how horrid it is for those you love not to have what they want. You won't be so unkind to us, father? Tjaelde. No, my child, it can't be done. Signe. Why? Tjaelde. Because--because--well, because now that it is summer time so many people will be coming here whom we shall have to entertain. Signe. But entertaining people is the most tiresome thing I know, and Hamar agrees with me. Tjaelde. Don't you think I have to do tiresome things sometimes, my girl? Signe. Father dear, why are you talking so solemnly and ceremoniously? It sounds quite funny from you! Tjaelde. Seriously, my child, it is by no means an unimportant matter for a big business house like ours, with such a wide-spread connection, that people coming here from all quarters should find themselves hospitably received. You might do that much for me. Signe. Hamar and I will never have a moment alone at that rate. Tjaelde. I think you mostly squabble when you are alone. Signe. Squabble? That is a very ugly word, father. Tjaelde. Besides, you would be no more alone if you were in town. Signe. Oh, but it is quite different there! Tjaelde. So I should think--from the way you throw your money about! Signe (laughing). Throw our money about! What else have we to do? Isn't that what we are for? Daddy, listen--dear old dad-- Tjaelde. No, dear--no. Signe. You have never been so horrid to me before. Hamar (who has been making signs to her to stop, whispers). Can't you be quiet! Don't you see he is put out about something? Signe (whispering). Well, you might have backed me up a little. Hamar (as before). No, I am a bit wiser than you. Signe (as before). You have been so odd lately. I am sure I don't know what you want? Hamar (as before). Oh, well, it doesn't matter now--because I am going to town alone. Signe (as before). What are you going to do? Hamar (going). I am going to town alone. I am sick of this! Signe (following him). Just you try! (Both go out by the verandah, to the right. TJAELDE lets the newspapers fall out of his hands with a heavy sigh.) Valborg (looking in from the verandah). Father! (TJAELDE starts.) There goes Mr. Berent, the lawyer from Christiania. Tjaelde (getting up). Berent? Where? On the wharf? Valborg. Yes. (Comes back into the room. TJAELDE looks out of the window.) The reason I told you was because I saw him yesterday at the timber-yard, and a little while before that, at the brewery and at the works. Tjaelde (to himself). What can that mean? (Aloud.) Oh, I know he is very fond of making little trips to all sorts of places in the summer. This year he has come here--and no doubt he likes to see the chief industries of the place. There is not much else here to see! But are you sure it is he? I think-- Valborg (looking out). Yes, it is he. Look now, you know his walk--